


With Me in My Dreams...

by Peggystormborn



Series: Every Time...A Karamel Anthology [17]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Canon compliant through end of season 3, F/M, KaraMel, Karamel spent 10 years in the future then came back with their kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 07:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peggystormborn/pseuds/Peggystormborn
Summary: When their youngest son John starts having unexplained seizures, Kara and Mon-El will do anything to find a cure. Even if that means embarking on a trippy, drug-induced vision quest together. But sifting through their memories will prove more difficult than they imagined. Will they find the answer in time?





	With Me in My Dreams...

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, this is a serious one, but with plenty of funny moments (I hope.) It started with a single jokey line that stuck in my head and expanded into all this craziness. Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> For those who haven't read my other works, Karamel are married after spending 10 years in the future with the legion, and returning with their 4 children. Alex has also adopted a son, Conner, who is a human-alien hybrid.
> 
> Also Mon-El has a twin brother.

It started in the middle of the night, with Allie screaming.

 

“MOMMY! DADDY! HELP! I NEED HELP!”

 

They'd both shot up out of bed, racing into the nursery to see her holding baby John--well, more accurately, toddler John, though Kara was pretty sure being the youngest of four meant the title of “Baby” wasn't likely to go away any time soon. The boy was shaking violently in his eldest sister's arms.

 

“John? John, honey? Wake up, sweetie! WAKE UP!” Kara had cried, scooping him up and holding him close as he convulsed.

 

At length, the shaking relented, leaving him crying but otherwise by all appearances perfectly normal. After a few minutes of sobbing on his mother's shoulder he had just gone right back to sleep.

 

Kara and Mon-El definitely did NOT sleep that night, though big sister Allie, who adamantly refused to leave his room, eventually nodded off on the floor next to the crib.

 

“It was terrifying, Alex. What do you think it was? A seizure?” she asks her own sister as the youngest Daxatonian sits happily on an examining table in the Med Bay at the DEO, playing with his aunt's stethoscope. She gazes lovingly at her little angel, whose eyes have begun to fade from baby blue to grey, matching his father's. She takes a moment to grin goofily at the notion, hoping to quell the fear that's churning in her gut. Her older three children all ended up with her comet-blues, and somewhere inside she'd secretly hoped John would be the one to inherit those dreamy silver pools she loves to get lost in. So she'd been ever-so-slightly disappointed when John had met the world with the same eyes as his siblings. But, as with humans, eye color often starts blue and evolves into something else. And she'd been delighted to notice flecks of grey creeping in bit by bit over the past few months.

 

“Based on your description, that's what it sounds like,” Alex replies, with a poorly-concealed look of concern. “But with you guys, it's nearly impossible to be sure of anything. These kids of yours are the only half-kryptonian-half-daxamite children in the universe as far as we know, and I can only make educated guesses about their physiology based on what I know about the two of you and your respective peoples. Which, frankly, isn't much. Can either of you think of anything in your family history that might give us some clues?”

 

“I asked Eltro, he couldn't remember anything, unfortunately. I doubt there would be any records regardless, my parents wouldn't have liked to admit to there being any kind of weakness in our bloodline,” Mon-El says, shoulders sagging. Somehow, even from beyond the grave, his mother and father have managed to fail him once again. He feels that familiar clenching of his gut, the one he gets when Kara is in danger, and thinks about his little angels, these perfect gifts from Rao. He thinks of his twin brother, too, who found their family here on Earth after escaping from the remnants of his parents’ regime. All these people who didn't exist to him just a few short years ago. Yet he cannot imagine his life without them now. He gathers his young son into his arms and squeezes him tight, as Kara runs her hand up and down the child's back, an attempt to comfort herself more than to soothe him, really, since his toddler brain is blissfully unaware of the entire situation.

 

“I was planning on talking to my mom today. We can even portal over to Argo and see if there's any information in their records that might help. Or anything else she can think of.”

 

“I'll go with you. Listen, we're going to figure this out, okay?” Alex says.

 

The parents nod in her direction, trying their hardest to believe it.

 

********

 

The sound of the three eldest Danvers children, and their cousin Conner, echoes through Alura's Argosi home as they engage in a rollicking game of tag. Giggles, shrieks, and the occasional “No, YOU'RE it!” are normally music to a grandmother's ears, but, given the circumstances, instead are something of a distraction today.

 

He'd had two more seizures before they arrived on Argo. Two more episodes that seemed endless, as their hearts raced, praying to Rao that it would stop. Thankfully, for the time being he seemed all right.

 

“Why don't I take them outside? I think I saw some kids from the neighborhood playing nearby,” Eltro says as he goes to round up the kids and shepherd them outdoors.

 

“Thanks, brother,” Mon-El nods warmly at his twin, who returns the gesture and calls out to the stragglers to get their pitooties outside, please. Zora and Xander erupt in peals of laughter as they whiz through the living room and out the door onto the spacious lawn. Allie, the only child with an inkling of what's transpiring, takes a moment to stop and give each of her parents a reassuring hug before breezing outside.

 

“So? Is there anything you can tell us?” Kara says to her mother, as she, her husband and sister sit on the couch, John in Alex's arms.

 

“There isn't much, no. After I got your message last night, I scoured our archives, and your father's lab. I even went to the hall of records early this morning and accessed databases on the house of El as well as my side of the family, the house of Ze.”

 

“And...nothing?” Alex asks.

 

“There were some vague references to a sickness, long ago, before the advent of the birthing matrix. But I'm not sure if it's the same one that's afflicting John.”

 

“And any genetic issues would have been corrected by the matrix over subsequent generations anyway,” Kara sighs. “So whatever it was would have been scrubbed out long ago.”

 

“...Not necessarily,” Alura says, quirking her head.

 

“What do you mean?” Mon-El inquires.

 

“We've learned much about genetics over the millennia, but some things are still mysterious. Kara, your father once told me that certain mutations seem to crop up spontaneously over and over throughout the generations, even after being corrected. That's part of why we value the matrix so much. Although the matrix itself is not perfect. It has a small but real failure rate.”

 

“So whatever is wrong with him, if it's even genetic, could either be a one-off mutation or it could be something _I_ passed to him? Something the matrix didn't catch?” Kara asks weakly.

 

“And since he was born naturally, there was no opportunity for correction,” Alex laments.

 

“It could also be from my side, love,” Mon-El counters, rubbing her shoulder. “And don't forget I've had my DNA tinkered with, by the Legion. Theoretically that should be a tiny fraction of my code, and only portions that are known to be redundant, but that's assuming Brainy knew what he was doing when he gave me the gene therapy. Though he rarely makes mistakes…at least, not about stuff like that.”

 

“No, that's not it,” Alex intercedes. “I had Winn send him a message this morning and he replied back that the gene edits they made in order to write the Pestilence cure into your DNA were specifically designed _not_ to impact your reproductive system. For this exact reason. And beyond that he says he's personally read through your entire genetic code and found no anomalies that would explain this.”

 

“So…we're back to me, then.” Mournfully, Kara stares out through the floor-to-ceiling windows at her children playing. Wracking her brain, trying to think. And desperately working to choke down the ever-growing lump in her throat. Her husband grasps her hand to reassure her.

 

“Since you're here, let's go through the family tree again.” Alura calls a Kelex robot over, and they watch as it pulls up a holographic diagram before them.

 

“House of El. Established by Milia and Erok-El, four thousand, six hundred and twenty-two cycles before the destruction. The House of El's youngest members are Alura, Alexander, Zora, and John Danvers-Zor-El, children of Prince Mon-El of Daxam and Lady Kara Zor-El; and Jonathan Kent-El, son of Kal-El and Lois Lane of Earth. Kara Zor-El is the daughter of Zor-El and Alura In-Ze, and Kal-El is the son of Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van.”

 

“We know all that, thank you, Kelex. What about my lineage?” Kara inquires with some impatience.

 

“Lady Kara, your father was the son of Seg-El and Nimda An-Dor. Seg-El was the son of Ter-El and Charys-Ix. Ter-El was the son of Val-El and…”

 

“...Wait! Val-El! Hold on, I'm remembering something…” Kara exclaims.

 

“What? Something about your…great-great-grandfather?” Mon-El checks the screen to make sure he's getting the family history right.

 

“Yes. I think. Dad told me a story about him. When I was young. Something about…yes, a shaking sickness. Damn it, I can't remember. I was very ill, at least...I'm pretty sure…”

 

Alura perks up, tapping her finger against her chin and looking up at the ceiling. “I believe I remember that. We took you off-world to Oa, and you had your first fever. If we'd been on Krypton, we'd have been able to treat it quickly, but it was such a short trip and we hadn't bothered to bring a medi-bot or any anti-virals with us.”

 

“That's right…Dad felt awful so he stayed up all night telling me stories.” She looks at John’s little cherub face, and wonders if he got those dimples from Grandpa Zor. She wishes so much that he'd lived to see this--though if he had, the idea of his only daughter marrying and procreating with the Crown Prince of Daxam might have killed him.

 

“What was it he said? I remember him tickling me to make me laugh, but I was trembling from the fever and chill, and he said it could be worse. Then he told me his great grandfather was said to have a shaking disease. But…damn. I think he said more, but I just...I can't…” Kara drops her head into her hands in frustration. Her husband wraps his arms around her, running his hands up and down her back.

 

“It's gonna be okay. We _are_ going to cure him. You hear me?” He cups her face and looks her dead in the eye. “Supergirl _always_ finds a way. I don't care if we have to scour every memory bank in the universe, or time travel, or…”

 

“...Memory...time travel…” Kara clasps his hands and holds them close to her heart. “Baby, we don't have to literally go back in time. I...I think I know a way we can talk access the memories of my ancestors--that is, we might be able to actually _talk_ to Val-El--without any risk to the timeline.”

 

“Really? What is it?”

 

“It's something Ray told me about.”

 

“Oh...so, we'd have to ask him for help?” Despite the rather desperate situation they're in, there's no denying that asking for help from Kara's ex-boyfriend would be somewhat awkward. Mon-El does like the guy, acknowledges he's a good man, a friend even, but they've never really had a chance to bond the way Kara has with Mon-El's ex, Imra. Which makes involving him in their problems moderately uncomfortable. Though certainly, he would welcome any and all assistance available. After all, this is their _child_. Their baby. And there's no hell Mon-El wouldn't walk through to keep his family safe.

 

“No, actually, his best friend Nate would be the one to ask.”

 

Mon-El, slightly relieved, nods in understanding, and wraps one arm around his wife, touching his forehead to hers.

 

“Who's Ray?” Alura whispers to Alex, not wanting to intrude on their moment.

 

“Uhhhh...long story,” Alex replies.

 

********

 

“Okay, so, full disclosure: I have absolutely no idea what effect, if any, this stuff will actually have on you guys. I mean, since you're not human,” Nate warns his friends, hands raised in front of him as though grasping an invisible beach ball. The alien spouses look at each other before glancing down warily at their matching mugs of murky brown liquid, currently filling the air with a scent that somehow emits notes of both a woody, pine-like odor as well as something more pungent, like sauerkraut.

 

“What is it called again?” Mon-El asks, trying to mentally prepare himself for the journey they're about to embark upon together.

 

“Lyoga root tea. It's a hallucinogen…and _then_ some. I made it in the fabricator, but I know it works as well as the natural variety. We've used it a couple of times. It's, uh, something my...um, friend...uses as part of a tribal ritual to commune with her ancestors.” He looks down a little sheepishly at mention of his ex, Amaya, who returned to her village and married another man. It was her destiny, and necessary to preserve the timeline, but he's clearly not quite gotten past the pain of it yet. Kara, who's heard the whole story from Ray, squeezes Nate's hand and nods.

 

 _Ho, boy, do I know that look_ , Mon-El thinks, reading the flash of wistfulness in Nate's eyes. It's one he himself wore often during his long years of separation from Kara. He mentally sends a little prayer to Rao to bring some peace to the man who's currently skipping what he suspects is a fairly important mission with his team (something about a leprechaun?) to come here and help them save their child.

 

“Okay, so what should we expect here?” Kara inquires.

 

“Well, assuming it's the same, and I mean, it could be, I have some amount of powers, too, you know, _other_ man of steel and whatnot--like, Kara, remember when you fell out of the sky and I caught you? That was pretty cool.” Nate pauses, remembering, then reads the serious tone of the room and course-corrects. “But...well, be advised, this stuff makes you high as a kite. Like, three-days-at-Burning-Man, Alice-down-the-rabbit-hole high. ”

 

“So…it's like a vision quest?”

 

“Exactly. It's more than just a drug, though, it has, sort of...magical qualities. Hence the, you know, talking to dead people.”

 

“What did you see? When you used it?”

 

“Well, I was with Amaya, who by the way more or less knew what she was _doing_ with this stuff, but, um, we saw, like, her ancestors, and their totems, and we figured out how to use them to do a care bear stare and make Voltron...”

 

“I have no idea what any of those words mean,” Mon-El chimes in.

 

“Well, then I should probably not bother to elaborate about how we then made a giant Beebo to defeat a time demon,” Nate adds stoically.

 

“Beebo? What's a...Beebo?” Mon-El’s well-worn look of bafflement at 21st century pop culture comes over him, causing Kara to roll her eyes, as she's done on many, many occasions.

 

“I'll tell you about it another time, love.” Kara waves her hands dismissively at her mate. “So we drink this whole thing?”

 

“Uh, I'm not sure, actually. I took _way_ too much last time and I was basically tripping balls. But Amaya was really the one running the show. I don't know if she did something specific to make her ancestors appear, or what. And you guys, I mean, who the hell knows? Like, you can't even get drunk normally, right? There's no way to be sure if...”

 

“...Screw it,” Kara says, draining her glass.

 

“Wow, okay, um…” Nate stammers.

 

“...Oh, boy. So, if I drink this too, we should be able to, like, dream walk together?” the Daxamite asks.

 

“That's how it worked when I did it, but again, I don't…”

 

Mon-El chugs his mug as well, pursing his lips at the odd fermented flavor.

 

“Oookay, I'm gonna just step out now. But I'll be outside the glass the whole time, okay?” Nate hurries out, not wanting to be stuck in a cell with two supers who are about to become very, very intoxicated.

 

Kara and Mon-El lie down, hand in hand, on the floor of their cell in the DEO's maximum security containment ward. Last time she was stuck in here, drunk off her ass with Barry, they'd managed to escape using Barry's phasing power. This time the speedster wasn't here, but extra fortifications had been added anyway to make sure they stayed put while on their psychedelic journey.

 

“See you on the other side, my love,” Mon-El says to his wife. She snuggles in closer to him then, resting her head against his shoulder and squeezing his hand in her iron grip.

 

Kara takes a deep breath and waits, until a feeling of euphoria and tranquility begins to wash over her. She floats on it, like a patch of seafoam drifting and bobbing on the ocean. Slowly, the blackness of her vision is invaded by color. Pink and purple at first, cloudy blobs glowing subtly, swirling and growing like drops of paint fallen onto the surface of a pool, radiating outward. Soon, blues and greens begin to crop in here and there, then other hues, until the blobs begin at last to coalesce into a coherent picture. She starts to feel her extremities then, and realizes Mon-El is still there, still clutching her hand. Though the substance has imbued both of them with a loopy, giddy feeling, they are able to keep it together enough to look at each other and share a brief nod of determination, before focusing their attention on the scene forming before their eyes.

 

“Where are we?” Kara asks, looking down at a patch of green. “Are we outside? It's…not very bright, is it nighttime?”

 

“No, honey, that's the pool table. We're in the bar.”

 

“The bar? _Our_ bar? Why would we be here? I thought…”

 

“Look! It's...us…”

 

She turns her foggy-feeling head to gaze at a booth against the far wall. She sees herself in a light brown sweater, with pigtail braids, deep in conversation. Mon-El is sitting across from her, sans the beard she's grown so fond of.

 

“Is that...M'Gann?” she sees her White Martian friend approach them with two drinks.

 

“Kara…we're in a memory, just not your ancestors’ memory. It's…it's the night we got drunk, remember?”

 

“Oh my God, you're right. That blue girl sent the drinks over...look at you flirting with her across the bar!” She sees her other self peek over the back of her seat at the bubbly cerulean-hued alien waving coquettishly.

 

Despite the high he's on, Mon-El still cringes as he stares at the guy he once was, the selfish, stupid jerk who couldn't see what was right in front of him. Part of him wants to run over and scream at his old self to get his shit together, act right, and cherish the time he has with the light of his life.

 

Instead, he turns to Kara, looks into her eyes, and says…

 

“I can't _BELIEVE_ you slept with that guy.”

 

“Shut up, weirdo.” She swats at his arm. Returning her gaze to the scene playing out before them, she can't help but smile at her younger self, drunkenly high-fiving the man who would someday (in the very VERY distant future) father her children.

 

“Actually,” she muses, “it's probably a good thing J'onn dragged me out of there. I don't think it would have gone well for us if we'd banged while hammered on Alderberan rum.”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…” Mon-El stops, utterly floored. “Are you saying _sex_ was on the table that night?”

 

“No! I mean...probably not. I dunno, I was pretty  trashed. And so were you.”

 

“Aww, man. I could have had like three more _months_ of seeing you naked…” he smiles dreamily, picturing it.

 

“ _Or_ I might have been so mortified I never talked to you again. Plus we were wasted, I'm sure the sex would have been terrible.”

 

“There's not enough alcohol in the multiverse to make sex with you terrible.”

 

“That's…sweet, I guess. Now can we get back to trying to help our sick child?”

 

“Oh, God. Right. Sorry, this stuff makes it _really_ hard to focus.”

 

“I know, but we have to. Now...why are we in MY memory? Or...yours, maybe?”

 

“I'm not sure. Nate did say the drug might work differently on us.”

 

“Well, let's see if we can remember something else. At the very least, maybe we can access my memories of my Dad, including the story about great-great-grandpa Val-El.”

 

“Okay, well, give it a go. Start with something that's easy to remember.”

 

“As a sort of...practice memory, you mean? Uh, sure. Like what, though?”

 

“Well…hey, remember the night we made John? The Council meeting on...gods...I can't even remember what planet...” a smug smile spreads slowly access his face.

 

“It was Tamaran. And of _course_ that's where your mind would go.”

 

“What can I say? I'm a romantic.”

 

“Mmmhmmm…” she looks at him with skepticism, but as she does so the bar begins swirling around them, re-forming as a beautiful garden, filled with elaborate topiaries and exotic blooms.

 

They hear giggling, and turn their heads in unison to see themselves again, though not as young as in the last vision. Kara is dressed in a vivid green, backless, halter-style gown which trails on the ground behind her, with Mon-El donning a dark blue suit with a high collar. Neither wears jewelry except their matching Legion rings, which catch the light here and there as they go. Younger Kara hitches up her voluminous skirt in front of her and runs through an archway, her husband in hot pursuit. The planet they're on lacks a yellow sun, and without powers they jog by just as humans do, huffing and puffing a bit as they run along the edge of a long rectangular fountain. They laugh loudly, each holding a long-stemmed glass in hand. Purple-tinted, the vessels are reminiscent of champagne flutes, and similarly filled with light-colored, bubbly liquid.

 

Finally catching up to his mate, younger Mon-El grabs her around the waist and spins her toward him, planting his lips firmly against hers as he steers her toward a discreet corner of the grounds, hands roaming up and down and dipping into the deep v-neck of her bodice. The flutes, now more or less empty, are forgotten on the grass nearby.

 

“ _Here? Now?”_ younger Kara says, breathless, when she finally gains the wherewithal to pry her lips from his.

 

“ _Yes. Now. The Trade Council doesn't actually need us for anything. I don't even know why we're here.”_ He trails his mouth up and down her neck, and her eyes close in bliss.

 

“ _We're here because it's expected. And we really should go back up to the palace soon. They could be looking for us,”_ other Kara says.

 

 _“No one will come looking, I promise. The emissary all but told me the Legion's presence is superfluous here. Ceremonial duties only. And none of the rites will even be performed until tomorrow. So we have tonight to ourselves.”_ He throws his jacket on the ground and reaches his hands behind her neck to unhook the single clasp holding the entire top of the gown together.

 

_“Well, Commander, I guess you're the boss...”_

 

 _“Damn right I am. Now come here, my love. Gods, you're beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.._.”

 

Present-day Kara looks at her husband, who sighs in earnest as she grabs his arm and tries to pull him away from the sight of their former selves copulating behind a nearby pergola.

 

“Come on, love. We're not going to find out what we need to know here.”

 

“Aw, but we're just getting to the best part, where we almost get caught by the groundskeeper and his big weird dog...thing.”

 

“It was a Grethlan spinehound. They're much friendlier than they look.”

 

“They'd have to be. Anyway, you're right, we should go. Where to next?”

 

“Let's see if I can connect to something earlier. God, it's so hard to concentrate. Okay, here we go.”

 

The environment shifts again.

 

They're in her apartment. They see themselves again, sitting at the kitchen table.

 

 _“It was okay that I was gonna die because I'd gotten to kiss you…”_ dream Mon-El says.

 

Real Kara looks on with confusion. “Damn it. I can't quite get the hang of this. I feel like something is blocking me.”

 

“Well, let me try,” he says. This time, the swirling colors give way to a revolving sequence of images.

 

_“Is Kara mated to someone?”_

 

_“Wake up with me?”_

 

_“You have a...rat face!”_

 

_“With everything I have, I love you…”_

 

_“I am the one…at this moment, in this situation...good to see you, Dana...who is supposed to be mad!”_

 

Kara waves her arms in front of the two of them, in an effort to brush the memories away.

 

“Mon-El, this isn't working. Maybe it's because you're here? Maybe we can only remember things that happened to the both of us?”

 

“Try to remember something from before we met,” he urges.

 

“Okay.” She does her best to hone in on something from before his pod fell to Earth. For some reason, a disco ball flashes into her mind.  

 

“Whoa… _now_ where are we? This doesn't look familiar,” he says.

 

“That bodes well, I guess. I think it's a…night club? But I can't imagine when I… _OH, RAO_.” Her eyes go wide, panic blossoming in her gut.

 

“What?”

 

“Um, I mentioned the whole red Kryptonite thing, right?”

 

“Yeah, you said it makes you act strange.”

 

“Not just strange. Evil.”

 

“What, like EVIL evil? In what way? I don't…WHOA.” Mon-El's eyes practically pop from their sockets at the approaching form of red-K Kara, hair flatironed, sideboob on display in her strappy-backed black outfit, looking like she owns the place. Kara realizes with relief that the ambient noise of the club makes it impossible to hear what dream-her is saying, but she still covers her face with her hands at the sight of herself draped over James on the dance floor. Until the other her says something truly awful about Lucy Lane that makes James push her away in disgust.

 

“Oh, God. Please don't look, baby. I was being sooooo gross.” Mon-El's jaw is practically on the floor, as she turns his face toward her.

 

“Babe, it's okay. I mean, it's really...REALLY weird, but I know that's not how you are. It's just…”

 

“What?”

 

“...Do you still have that outfit?”

 

“Oh. My. God. Will you _knock it off_?”

 

“I'm sorry, you're right, I don't know what's wrong with me. I want to blame the drug, but I think it's more about being connected to your mind. I just…you know, I really love you. And this is kind of...intimate.”

 

“I love you, too, Mon-El. I do. But I also love John. And I'm so, _so_ worried about him. Right now I'm having enough trouble not being distracted by that. I need your help, okay? Just...clear your mind. I think it'll help me direct my thoughts better.”

 

“Okay, I'll try.”

 

“Right. So, let me see if I can find something else.”

 

Another scene flares to life. They're outside, somewhere in National City.

 

Mon-El perks up. “Hey, look at you...you're wearing that pink jacket I love. But…who's that?” His voice drops to a low growl as he indicates the man walking next to the young version of his wife while the two of them eat ice cream. His face falls, realizing pink-jacket Kara is on a date.

 

“Oh. Uh, that's Cat's son, Adam. You know what? We should find something else, this isn't…”

 

 _“...It's been hard for me to feel normal…like I'm where I'm supposed to be. Does that make any sense?”_ early 20s Kara says.

 

The young man leans over to whisper in Kara's ear, and suddenly the young duo are kissing.

 

Mon-El deflates, more than a little uncomfortable at the sight. He sighs. “It's…it's okay, babe. It's not like I didn't know you've kissed other guys. I mean, I've _seen_ you kiss another guy before. Including once _after_ we were married, if you'll recall. One star. Do not recommend.”

 

“Uh, yeah, I _definitely_ know the feeling, guy who came back _married_ to someone else and then _kissed_ her right in front of me,” she grates, feeling rather ill at ease. Mon-El slumps even further.

 

“I just...I can't understand why I keep coming to things I _don't_ want you to see,” she gripes.

 

Her husband sighs. “It's just how the mind works. You're trying not to think of it, so it's _all_ you can think of. How about this: try remembering Krypton. Any old memory will do. Think of your dad, how about that?”

 

“Okay. Let's give it a go.”

 

The world spins again and they find themselves in Kara's childhood apartment. But the Kara they see there isn't a child, it's yet another grown-up version. _Damn it,_ Kara thinks.

 

_“Kara…”_

 

_“Father…no, this cannot be real. This is not real.”_

 

Mon-El has only ever seen his late father-in-law in holograms, and he freezes, fascinated, wondering what this man would think of him. Kara stops and watches, too. It's the first true-to-life version of him she's seen since…this exact memory, actually. The couple--still hand in hand--watch, transfixed, as this straight-haired Kara, clad in a white dress with her house glyph upon it, attempts to reject the reality presented to her. The reality which includes her still-living parents, Aunt, and younger cousin.

 

At length, white-dress Kara, with assistance from young Kal-El, opens her shiny silver kalath orb and a beautiful holographic version of the Rao system fills the room.

 

“What…what is this?” Mon-El asks, confused at how this vision is even possible.

 

“It's not real, obviously. I was attacked by a Black Mercy once and this is what I saw.”

 

“So we're dreaming about something you already dreamed?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“I don't understand. Why this? You have twelve years of memories of Krypton.”

 

“I know, I'm trying. It's like there's a wall or something. It's holding me back.”

 

“What's the earliest thing you can remember?”

 

“Let's see…”

 

The scene changes once again, and they find themselves floating in the blackness of space. Though they know it's not real, it's nevertheless frightening, and they instinctively pull in toward each other, holding on for dear life.

 

Mon-El opens to mouth to ask what memory of hers this could possibly be, until he sees the pod shoot by, followed by a huge flash behind them. A heart-wrenching wail emanates from his wife as Kara turns her head to look. Her husband stops her, placing his hands on her cheeks and turning her face towards his.

 

He realizes this is what's been holding her back. Krypton. All her memories of that place are clouded by this. The destruction. The loss. The horror of what happened to her.

 

“No, my love. Don't. Just…just keep looking at me, okay? Think of something else, a happy memory. The kids, or finding your mother…”

 

Tears streaming down her face, she shakes her head violently, nearly hyperventilating. “No, baby, I know what's coming next! All this…this is what that woman Psi made me see. My worst fears. And the worst one of all was…”

 

Krypton, or what's left of it, disappears, but they're still in space. A second pod, identical to the first, whizzes close to them, and Kara cries out again as she sees it enter an asteroid field. The craft lurches as it's stuck by chunk after chunk of space rock, and it explodes.

 

“NOOOOO! RAO, NO! I KILLED HIM! I KILLED HIM! HE'S DEAD, I KNOW IT!”

 

Drawn in by the horror of her memory, she's utterly inconsolable, screaming and shaking her head, weeping uncontrollably.

 

“Kara! It's okay, it's okay, I'm right here. None of this happened. It was all in your head. KARA!”

 

Try as he might, he's unable to rouse her from her delusion. He isn't sure what to do. He wraps his arms around her and strokes her hair, to no avail. Finally, he cups her face in his hands, but still she appears unaware of his presence, her own eyes snapped tightly shut as streaks of wetness pour out from the corners of each one.

 

“Kara! Listen to me! I'm alive! We have a life together, a family. And your family needs you right now. John needs his mother! _Please_ , baby!”

 

He isn't sure why, or how, but out of nowhere he hears himself speaking Kryptonian.

 

“El fidi erosh divae, El kyp zhri rao ghris...El fidi erosh divae, El kyp zhri rao ghris…”

 

He recites the meditation prayer over and over, until her sobs lessen and she begins to breathe more normally, finally joining him in his incantation. They speak the words in unison a half dozen more times, as her forehead falls to his shoulder.

 

After a few moments, she picks up her head and opens her eyes.

 

There they are, in that bedroom on Oa, little Kara cuddled up in bed with her father as he speaks soothing words to her.

 

“Dad…” adult Kara says softly as she watches the scene. She looks at her husband, who retakes her hand and nods in support as they listen to her father's story.

 

_“I'm so sorry you're ill, my daughter. I should have prepared better for this trip. But I promise, you will feel better soon.”_

 

_“How do you know, Father? What if I'm sick forever?”_

 

_“Fevers end, sweet girl. You can rely upon it. And believe me, there are worse maladies than this. We are lucky that Krypton has eradicated most diseases. Many other worlds still struggle a great deal with sickness and blight.”_

 

_“So people never get sick on Krypton?”_

 

_“Well, sometimes they do. You know, my great grandfather Val-El had a shaking sickness when he was young. It wasn't contagious like this, however. He was born with it. But it was quite serious.”_

 

Little Kara gasps. _“What happened? Did he...die?”_

 

Zor-El laughs. _“No, my daughter. He didn't die. Not for many years, at any rate. He eventually outgrew his disease. But until then, he couldn't leave Krypton. Eons ago, Kryptonians were genetically bonded to the planet. Krypton emits a certain type of...radiation, you see. Just as plants absorb red sunlight for energy, our people absorbed rays from our planet. Today we use the birthing matrix to identify and edit the genes that cause this. But in Val-El's case, the matrix failed.”_

 

 _“So he couldn't leave Krypton EVER? Not even to Sedenach?”_ the girl looks at her father with wide eyes, clearly appalled at the idea.

 

 _“No, he couldn't. When he tried, his body would shake and shake and shake.”_ Zor-El tickles Kara and grasps her tiny arms, jostling her playfully, eliciting a squeal of laughter.

 

 _“Once he was grown up,”_ her father continues, _“his body required much less of this radiation and he was able to travel at last.”_

 

 _“I'm very glad_ I _don't have that.”_

 

_“As am I, daughter. There's so much I want to show you and teach you about the universe. So many planets I want to visit with you as you grow up. You'll do amazing things one day, Kara. Amazing things.”_

 

Adult Kara's face, still wet from her previous outburst, is now red and puffy from what now seems to her like a never-ending stream of emotion. She looks at Mon-El, only to see he's been crying as well.

 

“I'm so glad one of us had such a wonderful father. I wish so much he could have met his grandchildren.” Mon-El says, gazing lovingly into his wife's eyes as he holds her.

 

“I wish that, too,” a familiar voice says.

 

Kara looks over at the image of her father, who's now standing before them, smiling.

 

“Dad…you're…are you real? Are you actually here?” Kara lets out a shaky breath, trying to hold herself together. Her husband's arms around her are helping to anchor her a little, at least. Nevertheless, she reaches out to touch the man standing in front of her, half expecting her hands to pass right through him, much like the holograms she's so accustomed to in real life.

 

“I could tell you yes, but you'd never really know for certain, would you?” he brushes her hand with his, and it feels both solid and warm to her touch.

 

“...No, I suppose not.”

 

“It doesn't really matter in the end, does it? I've always been with you. And I'll always BE with you. And your children as well.” He chuckles lightly. “I knew you would figure it out. You get your intelligence from me. But don't tell your mother I said that.”

 

Kara huffs a laugh through her tears. “Oh, Father, this is my husband, Mon-El.”

 

“The Prince of Daxam. Or...King? Is it? Which would make my daughter Queen, wouldn't it?” he smirks at the pair, bemusedly.

 

Mon-El looks down at his feet. Though the euphoria from the lyoga root is still with him, he feels incredibly nervous. “Uh…well, there's no more Daxam. So I'm not ruler of anything.”

 

“Of course not. But…you did run an organization, correct? Dedicated to my daughter's legacy? Or founded it, more accurately.”

 

Looking back up, he cracks a small smile. “I did. She saved me. Changed my life. Changed my heart. I owe everything to her. She's... everything.”

 

Zor-El steps toward the couple, taking Kara's hand more forcefully and clasping Mon-El's shoulder gently. “I could not be more proud of you, my darling child. My love for you, and for your children, will never end. And you, young man, I thank you for making my daughter's dreams come true. I will admit, when I was alive I might have had a few things to say about the idea of having the Prince of Daxam for a son-in-law. But, clearly my daughter has a gift for bringing out the good in people. Including the...how did you put it, Kara? Frat boy of the universe?”

 

She laughs loudly through her tears. “I don't know what you mean, I don't recall that at all…”

 

“Watch out there, babe, considering where we are, he might pull receipts,” her husband says.

 

“I might at that,” Zor-El chides. “Speaking of which…you have what you need now. The two of you make a good team, and I have no doubt you can overcome any obstacle, just as you overcame your psychic barriers today. Now, go save my grandson.”

 

“I love you, Dad.”

 

“I love you, too, my darling daughter.” He pulls Kara into a hug, reaching an arm out to drag Mon-El into the embrace as well.

 

As he pulls away, something troubling occurs to Kara, and she crinkles her eyebrows with concern.

 

“Dad, you didn't see...like, ALL the stuff we just went through, right?” Mon-El's spine straightens at the notion, and he has to stop himself from hiding behind his wife in embarrassment. Living life as he had on Daxam, he wouldn't normally balk at the idea of others being aware of his sex life, but of course this isn't just _any_ someone.

 

Zor-El hesitates, then smiles awkwardly. “Kiss the children for me, will you? And tell Alura I love her,” he finally says, and disappears.

 

With a gasp, Kara and Mon-El awaken, shooting upright in their cell. Their heads are still spinning, but they feel lucidity returning, slowly but surely.

 

“Whoa, you guys okay?” Nate says, from the other side of the glass. “Did you find what you needed?”

 

They nod. “Yes. We have to take him back to Argo,” Kara huffs, trying her best to calm herself after such an intense experience. Looking at her husband, she sees he is struggling as well, sweat pouring from his brow.

 

“Cool, can I tag along?” Nate asks. They stare at him blankly. “I've just...never hung out on an asteroid before...”

 

********

 

“So he needs exposure to Krypton? That's all?” Alex asks.

 

“Yes, but that's not exactly a small thing. We kind of live on Earth,” her sister replies. They're back on Alura's couch, John toddling around after his siblings.

 

“Well, the good news is it looks like you were right. He hasn't had a seizure since we came through the portal. I can't believe it didn't occur to me last time we were here, since the episodes stopped then, too. I guess we weren't around long enough for me to make the connection," Alex says, as she walks Allie into the kitchen to retrieve some snacks. 

 

“So what do we do now? I guess we'll have to move to Argo?” Mon-El asks. “At least until he outgrows this, like your ancestor did?”

 

“I don't think that will be necessary,” Alura says, emerging from her bedroom. “As much as I would love to have you all here permanently. But I suspect this will help.” She produces a grey, oblong, quartz-like pendant, about the size of a tube of chapstick. “Your father gave me this necklace when we were first married. It's a radioactive mineral, I think it should emit plenty of the energy his body requires. And if not, you can bring him here as often as you need to keep him healthy.”

 

“Oh, Mom...I can't thank you enough. Your jewelry always seems to save the day.”

 

Alura and Mon-El share a smile at the reference to the necklace he still wears. The one Kara received from her mother just moments before leaving Krypton. The one he held onto all those years--that he still holds on to--as proof of her love for him. Back then it was all he had. But today, it serves more as a reminder never to take her for granted. Not that he would, since he still owes everything he has to her. Including the four little people currently running around like maniacs all over his mother-in-law's house.

 

Nate steps through the glass doors of the house brimming with excitement. “Holy crap, you guys, this place is amaaaazing. Oh! Hi, Kara's mom. Thanks so much for letting me check out your home town. It's pretty awesome.”

 

“I'm glad you like it. What did you end up seeing?” Alura says warmly.

 

“Well, I'm a historian by trade, so I went to the Kryptonian archives and one of your little...bot...things...walked me through the entire history of your civilization. I mean, wow. Did you know Kryptonians first traveled in space while humans on Earth were still trying to invent the plow? Man, I could write a freaking dissertation about this place. In fact, I _would_ except no one on Earth Prime has even heard of Krypton and they probably wouldn't believe me. Damn it.” He plunks down on the couch, slightly frustrated.

 

“Well, considering all you've done for my daughter and her family, feel free to write whatever you'd like!” Alura says. “And you are welcome here any time, of course.”

 

“Thought hopefully next time we get together there will be less intoxication. I'm still a little loopy from that,” Kara says.

 

“No argument here. Listen, I should get back. But I'll tell Ray you said Hi, okay? I think he's still angling to get the kids together for an interdimensional play date sometime, cool?”

 

“I'm still not sure who Ray is,” Alura says to Kara.

 

“Mommy used to smooch him a lot before she and Daddy got married,” Allie pipes in as she wanders back in from the kitchen, plate of sweets in hand, to Kara and Mon-El's mutual mortification. They stare at her as though she has Rimborian Tusked Worms slithering out of her ears.

 

“What?” the pint-sized blonde looks at her parents, shrugging as she watches both of them crinkling their brows at her. “I don't need super-ears to hear all the gossip at the DEO.”

 

“That's true,” Alex says, coming up behind her with a tray of blue-tinted drinks. “It's basically high school, with uniforms and sidearms.”

 

Alura chuckles. “I'm not exactly sure what this 'high school’ is, but I'll take your word for it.”

 

It's getting late anyway, so they portal back to the DEO, then take their little brood home to Midvale to put them all to bed. Despite the resolution to their ordeal, Kara can't stop herself from getting up to peek at her little boy every few hours during the night, just to make sure he's still okay.

 

As she returns from the 4th check-in, slipping under the covers where her husband has been helpfully keeping things warm and cozy for her, he puts his arms around her and asks, “Are you okay?”

 

“I'm still a bit shaken from all this. I guess I've always taken their health for granted, given how the yellow sun affects us. The things I usually worry about…them getting hurt because of the work _we_ do...I mean, one of them getting sick just never really occurred to me as a possibility.”

 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. But it's not as though…” he trails off.

 

“What?”

 

“Well, _I_ have a disability. It's something I live with all the time.”

 

“You mean your lead allergy? Having to take your injections?”

 

“Yeah. It's not easy for me to rely on you, to have to ask you to de-power yourself once a month and have Alex take your blood to make our treatment serum, just to keep me and my brother healthy.”

 

“It's a pretty small price to pay, sweetheart. I mean, you'd both _die_ without it.”

 

“And I'm so grateful to you, I mean, I'm grateful _for_ you. But it's hard. It's an obligation, for both of us. And John is going to have to grow up living within his own limitations. Always having that necklace, maybe having to spend time on Argo periodically. It's manageable, but it's not nothing. Knowing that something bad could happen to you if for some reason your treatment wasn’t available.”

 

“I see what you mean. Well, at least he has a father who understands and can talk to him about it as he gets older. And it's not as though everyone in our family doesn't have to live within certain parameters, you know? Using our powers responsibly, pretending to be human, that sort of thing.”

 

“Very true. But for now, how about we get some sleep, huh? Or we're both gonna be operating suboptimally tomorrow.”

 

“Okay. Goodnight, my love.”

 

“Sweet dreams, Kara.”

 

And this time, fear and anxiety drained at last, her dreams were very sweet indeed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I borrowed some family history from the Syfy show Krypton, just for fun. Also I like picturing Ser Barristan Selmy as Kara's great great grampa. Lol!


End file.
